<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Eighteen by BobaMcFetty</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984924">Eighteen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobaMcFetty/pseuds/BobaMcFetty'>BobaMcFetty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Ending, Angst, Beej is so in love but is also a heartless dumbass, F/M, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, She's 18 but there are some unfortunate implications, babesweek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:55:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobaMcFetty/pseuds/BobaMcFetty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An old prompt for Babes Week over on Tumblr.  Day 5 - College<br/>He's stolen everything from her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beetlejuice &amp; Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Eighteen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In Lydia’s desk organizer back home, there’s a letter tucked away for safe keeping. Its envelope, which she oh so carefully sliced open with a letter opener, is a royal indego, and on the back its signed from NYU in gold lettering.</p><p>It arrived a few weeks after they moved to Winter River. Between unpacking and exploring, Lydia spent a lot of time staring down at the mailbox from her bedroom window, waiting for the mailman to deliver the key to her future.</p><p>When her acceptance letter to New York University arrived, she didn’t jump for joy. She didn’t even bother telling her parents, because her dad was too busy getting day drunk and Delia was too busy berating him. Lydia quietly walked up the stairs to her room and plopped down on her bed, hugging the envelope to her chest. In less than a year, she would be on her own. She would be free and independent. She would be out of this house.</p><p>Now its late August. She should be in New York City, having a latte with friends over homework. She should be having a movie night with her not-too-terrible roommate in the basement of their dormatory. She should be out in the courtyard with a guy just as offbeat as she is, tuning out the city traffic in favor of staring into each other’s eyes, hands slowly embracing, completely alone, with only the trees and night sky witnessing her first romance.</p><p>She should be in school, getting an education like all the other 18 year-olds.</p><p>Instead she’s here playing housewife to a 600 year-old dead man. It’s just a more interesting version of her worst nightmare.</p><p>Delia is a housewife whether she likes to phrase it that way or not. The idea of staying home all day taking care of a house and, god forbid, kids horrifies her. Hell, Lydia never wanted to have a husband in the first place, let alone one like him. She wanted to see the world on her own terms, and a part of her that hasn’t given up yet still does.</p><p>Two strong arms wrap around her middle as Betelgeuse buries his face in her neck. She doesn’t jump when he sneaks up on her anymore. She can never tell if he likes that or not.</p><p>“Hey babe,” he mumbles into her ear. Lydia finishes putting the mug into the cabinet before letting the door close. She sinks into him, running her thumb over one of this watches. Despite the centuries of dust clouding its face, her thumb comes back clean. “Been avoidin’ me all day. What’s with the attitude?”</p><p>She doesn’t fight anymore. If he wants to touch and hold her, he will in spite of any kicking or clawing she gives him. There’s no point in bothering anymore.</p><p>“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Lydia defends, “I’ve just been busy.”</p><p>He slides his hands down to her hips and turns her towards him, crowding her against the sink. She stumbles.</p><p>“Tell me what’s wrong.” He has no business being this soft after all of the horrid things he’s done to her. He shouldn’t look at her the way he does. Lydia knows he loves her, and she can’t understand that. She’ll never understand because a creature like him shouldn’t feel anything close to love.</p><p>“I’m tired,” she manages to whisper. It isn’t a lie, but it isn’t the truth either, and by his useless exhale and slight frown, he doesn’t fully buy it.</p><p>Betel effortlessly sweeps her up and carries her bridal style from the kitchen, down the hall, and into their room before delicately dropping her on the bed.</p><p>He slips off her shoes and runs his hands up her legs, lifting her skirt along the way. Once he’s reached her hips, he takes a moment to look before placing a single kiss at the apex of her thighs. Lydia jumps.</p><p>“I’m not in the mood for- for that.”</p><p>“You’re never in the mood. The hell is wrong with you?”</p><p>What’s wrong? What’s wrong? What’s wrong is she shouldn’t be on a king sized bed that she shares with her husband, she should be on an extra long twin bed in a dorm. She’s missed prom, graduation, move in day, her first party, so many other things that mark her transition into adulthood.</p><p>She fixes him with the saddest look he’s ever seen from her.</p><p>“You took everything from me.”</p><p>Betel is taken back, and he actually looks hurt. Lydia slips out from under him and stands to create distance. He lets her.</p><p>“I should be in school right now. You took that from me. You took my future from me and now you expect me to just sit here and let you molest me whenever you-” Her pitch peaks at the end. She isn’t letting him see her cry over this. “I’m taking a shower. Don’t bother me.”</p><p>She slams the bathroom door, leaving him in silence.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>